


i like you right there

by BadOldWest



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-29
Updated: 2017-12-29
Packaged: 2019-02-23 11:08:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,399
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13188801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BadOldWest/pseuds/BadOldWest
Summary: And it’s not for lack of understanding Frank that Karen has doubts he’ll let her go; in fact, they’re at the stage where they understand implicitly, the most, in doubt. That they bow to doubt, and play the game to show how they can act upon it, fight it. Doubt is an engagement, an invitation to prove it wrong.





	i like you right there

The closer he gets her, the more she believes it’ll never really come. 

Objectively, there is trust there. That’ll it happen. He’s not a complete monster, he is offering to do this so it’s not like he’ll just give up.

She’ll come. 

But she’s seen Frank Castle caged, and she’s seen him rattle the bars when she was viewing him from the other side. That was where he was aggressive. Slipping between the bars to reach for him was where there was trust, where there was a moment of peace. 

Still, even when he’s been working his mouth between her legs -somewhat of a ‘ _ thank you ma’am’  _ pressed above her knee before his tongue split her lips to devour her- she doubts. 

And it’s not for lack of understanding Frank that Karen has doubts he’ll let her go; in fact, they’re at the stage where they understand implicitly, the most, in doubt. That they bow to doubt, and play the game to show how they can act upon it, fight it. Doubt is an engagement, an invitation to prove it wrong. 

Frank is no schoolboy, between her legs. Not fluttering and hand-wringing. He’ll never do anything to knowingly make her uncomfortable, but he’s never going to ask to kiss her first. He’s that type of man. He doesn’t have to. He does the smart thing and instead rocks his brow down against hers, a firm press and then a lull, a roll of the neck that doesn’t part but makes her have to chase the contact. Almost pulling away so she comes back. Settles into that, in the dark of her kitchen, flowers in the window. Leans down. Foreheads touch. Two breaths tangle between two mouths. And almost like a tide, he shifts his weight onto his heels, she chases; all too subtle to even call a specific motion. Patient, plenty of time, and the investment and focus pays off because  _ she wants this _ . This would have ended in ten seconds if she didn’t want him there. And every second more just rolls the tide through her, coiling tension, making her act. 

So by the time he kisses her, he doesn’t have to ask, because he knows she’s ready. 

And there’s the doubt; he knows how to make her want it, and it’s hard to want what you know you’re going to get. He plays that doubt, weaves it around his rough fingers, pulling it taut so her legs seem to dance with pleasure like she’s on a puppet string he’s holding. Her head falls back with a cry. She stretches her arms across the mattress, fingers digging into sheets, writhing and reacting and  _ it’s so scary that he can just pull these sounds out of her- _

It’s almost too much to bear, with him sucking her clit and letting it be noisy because it’s  _ what she asked for _ and it’s  _ what she wanted _ . There’s no pretending about it. There’s no mercy in quietly, tamely going down on her, like they’re avoiding the topic out of modesty. Even the term seems juvenile, like a flush of a recap of a bland date ‘and then, he, you know, went down on me.’ He  _ eats her pussy _ like a man, obedient to Karen as a woman, and it’s causing a flush to color her chest because she’s not helpless in this, there is a dreadful promise of giving her what she wants. What she wants scares her. He holds her responsible for her pleasure, however massive.

It’s not doubt that she’ll come, not really. It’s realization, clarity  _ -oh god I do want this- _ and the control is slipping away because he knows it. 

He hums into her core, tongue snaking down from her clit to tease her entrance just a little, a dirty slide to remind her he’s there. 

Her hips buck, and he pushes them right back down, but the motion moves her slightly up the mattress and when she falls on her back again her head thumps against the headboard-

“Careful,” his lips leave her, head lifting, his ears trained to the sound and the flash of her hand cradling the crown of her skull. She cradles the bump -more startling than painful- as he swallows, dark eyes flashing. His lips and chin are so wet, she must look dizzy from her reaction to the sight of him because he reaches for her-

She bats the hand away, then thinks the better of it and grabs it, placing it flat on her bare stomach. “I’m fine, Frank.”

He looks down, nods, pulls her hips towards him. Her head falls against the pillow, her hair fanning out. 

“Careful,” he repeats, like she’s fragile, and his head dips and he returns to her. His thumb draws a gentle circle near her hipbone. Despite the concern, his mouth if rough, maybe rougher, now that he’s got her lying down the way he deems proper, six inches away from the offending headboard. 

She wishes she came earlier, she wishes this had already happened, that it was over; that she could see him choose to go and wash off the consequences in the shower but instead he did the most elaborate chess-strategy with her doubt and she’s lost her queen to him, or something. She’d ask him if the metaphor makes sense but he doesn’t strike her as a chess guy. He’s more likely swiped her carefully arranged gameplan off the board and is currently sitting her on it to conquer between her spread legs. 

She was worried about an orgasm, and he’s just been Frank this entire time, his compassion establishing more trust than she had asked him to prove, clearing more territory than she had planned to surrender. 

Doubt is the question that she was the one offering this in the first place, wasn’t she?

He shushes her, kissing her thighs, even though they haven’t spoken in a few minutes, just his tongue doing rapid little strokes and then slower. But he can hear her thinking, so he employs the use of a finger inside her, and her walls grip like they won’t allow him to leave. There’s a flash of his teeth, his crooked smile, in the darkness, his lips on her clit can only be described as a kiss when his first strokes inside have the intention of calming down instead of increasing the almost painful tension. 

She knows she’ll come, but that’s up to him when, and it scares the hell out of her because she wants it  _ now _ .

She grabs his head, her hips rolling against him, seeking, and he chuckles. His approval shouldn’t arouse the hell out of her- but it does. She cradles the base of his skull in one hand and the other grips tight to his shoulder, nearly chewing through her own lip as he goes back to sucking, his fingers curling perfectly inside her. Her thighs close around his head, and he doesn’t seem to want to work with those conditions, a rough hand pins one knee to the mattress, holding her open and even moments later mockingly tilting her so she lies on one hip, gravity resting her other leg against his head, his face still comfortably up against her cunt with them lying on their sides. 

She honest-to-God curls up in a ball, her ankles crossing at the back of his neck and her knees to her chin, her own lips so close to the crown of his head, and his free hands seems to be reaching to gather her up, pull her into this orbit. She accepts it, blindly clinging to whatever part of him she can reach, and he groans, twisting his fingers out of her and instead banding his arms up around her hips so she can’t escape. That seems to be how he wanted to work her over this whole time, surrendered, but he had to build up for that. You can’t just say a person needs to trust you, you need to prove it. 

His mouth is both doting and rough, like he trusts she can handle it. She can, despite never feeling anything like this before. 

He could have told her as many times as she told herself that he would make her come that night. 

It happens like she knew it would, but so much better. 

It doesn’t mean anything until he proves it.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm new to writing these two, go easy on me.


End file.
